Empty Chairs And Empty Tables
by Littlelots
Summary: Harry makes his way back to the Great Hall after Snape's death, wondering how much more pain he could bear. Yet the sorrow hadn't come to an end, for Death's reach was far. Les Miserables inspired oneshot. Rated T for description.


** -Disclaimer: J. K. Rowling owns the Story, the song is Les Miserables Empty Chairs At Empty Tables-**

"Where is everybody?" Hermione asked, looking around the empty courtyard, glancing at the piles of rubble, as though expecting people to jump out from behind them. Fires blazed here and there, amongst the mounds of rocks and between the arches.

_There's a grief that can't be spoken._

They slowly headed into the entrance hall, which was, again, empty. When they reached the doors of the great hall, Ron pushed them open, and as the doors swung wide, the trio stopped in mutual horror. Harry looked at the rows of bodies lining the centre of the floor, and felt his blood run cold.

_There's a pain goes on and on._

He slowly made his way through the doorway, avoiding the bloody track staining the ground. He tried to avert his gaze from the people lying on the ground; thankfully they were covered with cloths, so he couldn't see their faces, though the desire to know whether any of his friends lay beneath them was great. Hermione moved closer to Ron, her hand holding his so tight her knuckles were white.

_Empty chairs at empty tables_

The four tables were piled on the sides, along with the benches, where several of the injured were being treated. Harry tore his gaze away, not daring to look. Ron and Hermione moved ahead, going towards the back of the hall, but Harry found himself unable to move further.

_Now my friends are dead and gone._

The eerie silence that filled the air was stifling, surrounding him with Death's cruel bite. As he looked at the bodies on the ground, he remembered a time, not too long before, when they had met up in an act of defiance.

_Here they talked of revolution._

An image of the Room of Requirement floated before his eyes.

_Here it was they lit the flame._

He remembered them practising spells, doing everything they could to prepare themselves.

_Here they sang about `tomorrow'_

Hermione's coins telling them when to meet, Ginny mastering _Bombarda_, Ron performing his first patronus, Neville managing _Expelliarmus_, they had all been doing so well.

_And tomorrow never came._

His gaze found the rows of bodies once more, recognising the small form of Colin Creevey, who must have sneaked back when they had been evacuating students. So small, so young to die.

_From the table in the corner_

He passed Slughorn, who was treating Filch's arm, and gave them a small nod, however he was looking for someone else.

_They could see a world reborn_

He passed students and teachers alike, sitting on the benches, their faces masked with sorrow. He recognised two siblings from Ravenclaw crouched next to a small figure covered with a cloth, the elder brother comforting the younger sister. He vaguely remembered them having a little brother joining the year before, and with a sigh he guessed who lay beneath the gauze.

_And they rose with voices ringing_

Someone brushed past him, and he recognised Madam Pomfrey, who gave him a nod as she carried on, preparing to treat yet another student, her hands and apron stained with blood.

_I can hear them now!_

He passed a little girl sobbing on the floor, her arm wrapped in a bandage, which was already tainted red.

_The very words that they had sung_

Trelawney and Padma Patil sat next to a girl, Trelawney feeling the girl's pulse, before shaking her head, announcing her dead.

_Became their last communion_

He carried on, dragging his feet, his eyes searching the room for his friends.

_On the lonely barricade at dawn._

A group of people up ahead caught his eye; the Weasleys were crowded around, surrounding a figure on the ground. Harry's froze. No, not one of them, please don't let any of them be dead. His gaze found the figure, and with horror he recognised Fred. Ever-joking, forever-laughing Fred, lying cold on the stone floor, unable to laugh again.

_Oh my friends, my friends forgive me_

Ron rushed to George, hugging him tightly, before falling down beside the body of his deceased sibling. Harry watched with grief as his best friend choked out his sobs over his brother's frame. Hermione stood close by, tears leaving tracks in the dirt on her face. No family should have to bear this, Harry thought, barely stopping the tears as he found Mrs Weasley, who watched the body of her son with unconcealed anguish. No parent should see their child die before them.

_That I live and you are gone._

Harry turned his head away, only to be greeted with another painful sight. Tonks and Lupin lay side by side amongst the dead, their hands almost touching. His heart broke a little more, what would happen to Teddy? What would happen to his Godson now that his parents were dead? A jolt of horror ran through Harry, as he realised his Godson was an orphan just like him. He would never know his parents either; both of their parents had been killed in war.

_There's a grief that can't be spoken._

Guilt flowed through him as he looked at his dead friends, he had said at the burrow, no one would die for him. Yet here, cold as ice, they lay.

_There's a pain goes on and on._

McGonagall moved towards him, limping slightly, but Harry couldn't take it. It was his fault! It was entirely his fault, he should have given himself up already, and then they would still be alive. He turned, heading back towards the Entrance hall.

_Phantom faces at the window._

The faces of the dead flew before his eyes, accusing him of their deaths.

_Phantom shadows on the floor._

Tonks had just had a baby. Remus had been so happy; he had a child, something he had never even dreamt of having a child, due to his being a werewolf. And now, they would never be able to be a family.

_Empty chairs at empty tables_

Fred. How could Fred Weasley be dead? Was it possible for the family to recover, Fred had been like an older brother to him, so how must George be feeling? They did everything together, they weren't just brothers, not just twins, they were best friends. And now George would have to spend the rest of his life without his other half. And Harry knew that would break him.

_Where my friends will meet no more._

He needed to escape, he couldn't take it, he needed to get away from it all, clear his thoughts, make his final decision.

_Oh my friends, my friends, don't ask me_

There was only one place he could go, somewhere he hoped he wouldn't be followed.

_What your sacrifice was for_

As he left the Great hall, he looked behind him, one last time.

_Empty chairs at empty tables_

His friends, fellow students, teachers, members of the Order of the Phoenix, all of them, had risked their lives to help him, some had died helping him and Harry knew he had just one choice. Yes, he would think it over, say goodbye, but he still knew what his decision would be.

_Where my friends will sing no more._

As he walked towards Dumbledore's office he resigned himself to the inevitable, realising he wasn't scared. He would be with his parents, Sirius, Lupin, Tonks, Mad-Eye, Fred and Dumbledore. After all, death is but the next adventure, he thought, remembering some of the wise words of his favourite Headmaster.

Some things you don't have a choice in, some things you have to do.

For the greater good.

**A/N Thanks for reading! I got the idea when listening to the Les Miserables soundtrack. Please let me know if you liked it! Littlelots :D**


End file.
